This is just a story, nothing more. This is the last story before my book comes as a series
On a Sunday morning, I was going for a walk in the botanical gardens. I loved the scents, sights, and warmth of the huge greenhouse. I went there several times a week to think. Sometimes sit on a bench and be. I am practicing being in the moment. The bench was hard, and it made me sit up straight.
I had noticed a woman coming there now and then; she was alone, and it felt like I knew her. I had seen her before. I watched her from a distance as she looked at the massive tree from Madagascar and the lilies from some Asian country.
She was beautiful, and every part of her being was sensitive. The purple flower was her friend, and she mumbled something to the flower as if having a conversation. She touched it with a delicate touch and spoke some more in a low voice.
She realized I was watching her and smiled. She knows me, I think. It looked like she knew me. I still could not place her. She looked away like she was shy and walked in the opposite direction. I wondered whether to move along or stay on the bench. I decided to sit there, knowing I had to be in the moment.
After a few minutes, she came back. I was standing by the purple lily again, mumbling to herself again. I was intrigued by this beautiful woman. How did I know her, and from where?
My breath became rapid as frustration grew inside me. I had to figure out how I knew her. She smiled at me. Now she reached her hand out to me, and I got up to talk to her.
“Why do you want to hold my hand?” I said while wondering where I knew her from.
“What do you mean?” she looked astonished.
“I am me, don’t you know me? I am Lilly, don’t you know me?”
“I might,” I said, turning red in my cheeks, “do you know me?”
“Know you?” she laughed.
“Don’t be silly, Harry. Let’s go home.”
“Home?” I put on a fake smile, not knowing what she meant.
“Do you know where I live? And I am not Harry?”
“What do you mean you are not Harry; we have been married for 45 years. Let’s go home!”
She was getting annoyed with me. I could tell.
“45 years?” Hardly I said and laughed.
“Why would you not be Harry? I married 45 years ago,” she was insulted and mad.
“You are being an ass, Harry.” squeezing every word out between her teeth.
“Because I am 40 years old, which would make me minus 5 when we marry.”
She became furious and screamed
A woman came running and asked Lilly what was going on. Lilly had a tight grip on my arm. I was in shock. What was going on? My mind was racing. Her grip on my arm hurt a little.
“Lilly, he is not your husband. Harry is at home. Let us go home, let the nice man go.” Lilly had tears running down her cheeks as she let go.
“I am sorry, sir; she was in a traumatic car accident, and her memory is not good. I am going to take her home. I am sorry for the trouble.”
“She looks younger than she is if she has been married 45 years.”
“She is 39, and Harry is her cat. She seems to get things mixed up.” She told me as they left.
I sat back on the bench with many thoughts in my head. It was hard to stay in the moment and not think about Lily.